Jiang Ruochén helped Consort Wan into the side hall, carefully applying ointment and wrapping her wounds himself.
By the time he finished, night had already deepened.
Cold wind swept through the quiet courtyard. Fallen leaves rustled across the stone tiles.
Jiang Ruochén sat alone on a stone bench, feeling the chill cut through him as confusion once again filled his heart.
On the vast Hunyuan Continent, without strength, one could only live as an ant beneath another's heel.
"If I can't awaken my martial soul tomorrow, I'll be exiled to Mount Yan. I just transmigrated here—am I going to die again so soon?"
He clenched his fists. No. He refused to accept that.
A low hum rippled through his body.
Whether from his unwillingness or some deeper resonance, his dantian suddenly trembled.
The next instant, his consciousness was drawn into a strange, pitch-black space.
"Where is this?" he murmured, glancing around.
A deep, ancient voice answered out of the dark.
"This is your dantian."
The sudden voice made his skin crawl.
"Who's there?"
He turned, scanning for the source—no figure, only a towering stone pagoda, dozens of meters tall and a few meters wide, standing solemn and silent before him.
Its weathered surface was carved with mountains, suns, moons, and beasts—each mark worn by countless ages.
"The underground tower…"
Shock and recognition hit him at once. It was the very same ancient tower that had pulled him through the abyss.
Before he could think further, the old voice spoke again:
"I have waited countless years, and finally, a bearer of the Dragon Soul has appeared…"
A moment later, a massive dragon soul—aged, majestic, suffused with power—coiled around the tower, its ancient eyes glowing faintly.
Jiang Ruochén froze, breath caught in his chest.A dragon—an actual divine dragon—was right before his eyes.
The old dragon's gaze lingered on him.
"As expected, only one with a Dragon Soul could awaken the God Burial Tower."
His mind was a storm of disbelief and questions.
Before he could speak, the dragon turned its head slightly and said,
"You must have many questions, Jiang Ruochén. Ask. I will answer what I can."
He swallowed hard, steadied his breath, and asked,
"Who are you? Did you bring me to this world?"
"I am the Heavenly Prison Dragon Sovereign," the dragon replied. "Your arrival here has nothing to do with me. The tower sensed your Dragon Soul and used its supreme power to draw you through the realms."
Lowering his gaze to the ancient pagoda, the dragon's tone softened, almost wistful.
"The God Burial Tower's origin lies beyond reckoning. It is tied to the karma of countless worlds. The Blue Star you came from was once the cradle of all realms, until ancient wars shattered the ancestral land into fragments…"
Jiang Ruochén barely heard the rest.
"If the tower brought me here," he interrupted, "can it send me back?"
"It can—but not now."
The dragon's eyes narrowed.
"To command the tower's power, you must possess immense strength. As you are now, you haven't even reached one-ten-millionth of what's required."
"One ten-millionth?" Jiang Ruochén's eyes widened. "Then what level must I reach to return?"
The dragon paused.
"At least the Tribulation Realm."
"Tribulation Realm?"
He was stunned. From the memories he'd inherited, he knew the cultivation ranks—Vein Channeling, Qi Sea, True Origin, Cave Aperture, Dao Treasury… and then, far beyond them all, Tribulation.
On the Hunyuan Continent, those who reached Dao Treasury were already called masters. Tribulation-level beings stood at the peak of existence, gods among mortals.
"To reach Tribulation…" He felt his chest tighten. "So I'll never return home?"
"For most, it would be impossible," said the dragon, "but not for you. You carry the Dragon Soul, and the God Burial Tower itself will aid you."
Hope flickered in Jiang Ruochén's eyes. "So my martial soul really is a dragon?"
"Of course. Without it, the tower would never have awakened."
"Then… during tomorrow's awakening ceremony, I'll finally awaken my martial soul?"
"Under normal circumstances, yes," the dragon said.
"That's… incredible." Jiang Ruochén's gloom lifted. "If I can cultivate, there's hope. Even if it takes a lifetime, I'll reach it."
Strength meant everything here—both to survive now and to one day return home.
But the dragon's voice turned grave.
"Don't celebrate yet. The Dragon Soul's power is too vast for your current body to endure. If you try to awaken it as you are, it will destroy you. You must first strengthen your physique."
Jiang Ruochén's expression hardened. His frailty was no secret to him, but how was he supposed to change it in a single night?
"Senior Dragon Sovereign, please… guide me." He clasped his hands and bowed deeply.
The dragon's eyes softened with approval.
"You learn quickly. For that respect, I shall grant you a body-tempering method to reform your mortal shell."
"Thank you, senior."
"Don't thank me yet. Hear the price first, and then decide."
Jiang Ruochén nodded solemnly. "Please, tell me."
"Tomorrow is your final chance to awaken. Ordinary tempering methods would take months, and you have one night. Fortunately, I possess a secret art—the Nine Dragons Divine Codex. It can remake your body overnight, strong enough to endure the Dragon Soul's awakening."
The dragon's tone grew dark.
"But the pain will be unimaginable—hundreds of times worse than normal tempering. If your will falters, your body will collapse, and death will follow. Are you willing to take that risk?"
The dragon's eyes gleamed, waiting for his answer.